


Couldn't Change Your Heart

by bastardcosmonaut



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Genetic Enhancement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardcosmonaut/pseuds/bastardcosmonaut
Summary: Julian meets someone from a distant past, who helps him reconcile things about himself
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Original Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Couldn't Change Your Heart

She was short, mousy haired and freckled. She sat at the barstool with her shoulders stooped, scribbling in a little notebook. She was, Julian Bashir noted, not his type⃰. But if that was the case, why couldn’t he tear his eyes from her? 

He leaned over to Jadzia. 

“Who’s that?” He whispered, gesturing discreetly at the woman. 

“That’s Harriet Castille.” Said Jadzia. “The poet.”

Julian wasn’t really one for poetry, but the name sounded familiar. He racked his brain, trying to come up with anyone he knew who had mentioned her poetry. 

“What’s she onboard for?” Julian asked. 

“She’s writing her next book of poems on outer space, so she’s been hopping on and off different ships and stations, gathering material. At least that’s what she told me.”

“You spoke to her?”

Jadzia shrugged her shoulders, indicating that it wasn’t really as big a deal as Julian was making it out to be. 

“What’s she like?” He pressed.

Jadzia shrugged again. “She’s nice enough, I suppose. A little quiet.” Julian considered this, and then Jadzia said, in a low voice, “don’t look now, but she seems to have noticed us.”

Despite his friend’s advice, Julian did look. The woman was staring at them with a puzzled expression on her face, as if trying to recall something. 

“I’m going to talk to her” Said Julian, getting up from their table. “Good luck.” Said Jadzia, and then turned to greet Major Kira, who had just walked in.

“Quark” Quark turned his head at the sudden declaration of his name. “Two more bajoran ales please.” Julian settled on the barstool next to the woman, who looked very startled to have someone addressing her.

“Thanks” She said, and Julian was surprised to hear an English accent flowing from her mouth, much like his own. 

“It’s no trouble.” He replied. “Have you ever had Bajoran ale?”

“No,” said the woman, “I don’t get off Earth very much.” 

“Except in the last year” Said Julian, and then instantly bit his tongue. 

The woman, instead of looking creeped out,looked rather amused. “Ah, so you’ve heard about me!” She said.

“A little.” Julian conveniently regained his filter in time to not mention that he had asked after her. What was up with him? He was usually so good at this sort of thing.

“Well, in case you haven't heard, I’m Harriet.” Harriet extended her hand. “And you are?”

“Doctor Julian Bashir.” He shook her hand. 

“Oh my, a doctor!” She said. Coming out of another mouth the phrase might have sounded patronizing or even mocking, but from her it just sounded warm and delighted. 

“Why do you have that notebook with you?” Julian gestured to the little notebook, which up close he could see was purple, and had a picture of a dragon on the cover. 

“Oh! Uh, well, you know how there are two types of knowledge?”

Julian looked puzzled. His expression contained exactly what he was thinking: what does this have to do with what I asked? Harriet noticed and said, “Bear with me.”

“No, I don’t know about the two types of knowledge.”

“ Well there’s a priori knowledge and a posteriori knowledge. A priori knowledge is knowledge that exists outside of human interference or observance, like the motion of planets, or the growth of a plant. A posteriori knowledge is human-created, like the Complete Works of Shakespeare, or knowledge of the Terra Prime crisis of 2155⃰⃰⃰ ⃰.” 

Julian nodded.

“Well,” she continued, “You may think poetry is the second type, but I actually consider it to be the first type. I believe poetry is all around us, and a poet’s job is to refine it and put it into written form.That’s why I always carry my notebook with me.” 

“I see.” Said Julian.

The conversation lasted hours. The two of them didn’t have much common ground, but each was more than willing to listen to the other explain. Eventually the bar closed, and Quark had to kick them both out, but Julian didn’t want to stop talking. 

“Harriet, er, if you wouldn’t mind…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet. He just didn’t want her to get the wrong impression is all. He had a deep interest in her, but it wasn’t romantic in nature. Simply put, it felt like he had known her all his life, even though he knew they had just met.   
“...Would you like to come back to mine? Just to keep talking, not for anything-”

“I’d love to!” She declared. “That way I can tell you about the Intergalactic Haikus of Lillian Sclero. So, Sclero was working on a freighter, right?...”

***

“Nice place you got here.” Said Harriet. 

“Thanks.” Julian was pouring her another drink, a wine he kept for when company was over. Despite having been at the bar for hours, neither of them had had very much to drink. They had just been so captivated with each other. 

“Aw, who’s this little guy?” Julian heard, and cringed. She had found Kukalaka. 

“Oh that’s nothing, really. Just an old childhood toy.” He finished pouring, and put the wine bottle down on the table. Harriet still hadn’t spoken. He turned to look at her. She was standing with her back to him, gazing intently at the little stuffed bear on the shelf. 

“Kukalaka.” She whispered.

Julian tensed. “How did you-” he began. 

She turned, and her eyes met his. 

“Jules?”

Julian visibly flinched at hearing his old name. A series of memories flooded his brain. A smile with two front teeth missing. A pair of rainboots splashing in a puddle. Coloring pictures together. And, at naptime, sharing a mat, holding each other with him tucked under her chin. 

Julian took a breath in, as he remembered who she was.

She had been his protector. Before genetic enhancement, when he was still slow and clumsy. She had held his hand, and played with him, and helped him in class when he didn’t know the answer. once when an older boy pushed him, she punched that boy in the stomach. And here she was. Older, and different, and staring at him with her mouth agape. 

Julian sighed. “Yes.” He said.

“But…” she stammered. “But how? You were so…” then it dawned on her. She covered her mouth with her hands. Julian nodded. “That’s why your parents took you away.” She said. Julian nodded again. 

“I think I need to sit down.” Harriet said.   
“I think I do too.” Julian replied. 

They sat down on Julian’s plush sofa. Harriet covered her face with her hands. 

“This is a lot to process.” She said. “I thought genetic enhancement was a lot more dangerous, that it made you unable to participate in society.” 

“It does- usually.” He replied. “I… got lucky.”

“Do they know?” Her hand gestured to the room around them, but Julian caught her meaning. His coworkers. His crewmates. His friends.

“Some of them do.” 

“And they don’t… I mean, they treat you normally?” 

“They do, yeah.” 

“That’s good.” 

There was a heavy silence, the kind of silence that settles over a person like a thick wool blanket. Then Julian said, half jokingly,

“It’s a miracle we still get along. I’m a completely different person than I was then,”

“I don’t think so.” and at this, Julian’s head snapped left to look at her.   
“You don’t think so? Harriet, they changed my genetic code. I’m completely different.”

“Well, sure, things are different, but they didn’t change you, who you are.” 

He looked at her like she had grown a second head.

She continued. “Do you remember, when you were a kid, you used to pick up worms off the sidewalk so they wouldn't get stepped on or dry up in the sun. You would make both of us late to school for those worms. That essence of kindness, that desire to help others, is still there. It’s why you became a doctor. They changed your genetic code, but they couldn’t change your heart.”

Julian felt tears rising unbidden to his eyes. He blinked them back, years of conditioning telling him not to make a scene, but he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he said, “I was so lucky to have you.” 

“I was lucky to have you too.” Harriet replied. “I don’t know if you remembered this, but you were my only friend back then. When you left, I was so lonely. Even when I did make new friends, I missed you like crazy.”

“I missed you too.”

They were silent for another moment. Julian became aware of how tired he was.

“It’s late.” Said Harriet. “I should go.” 

“Or you could stay.” Said Julian, not really processing the words until they were out of his mouth. She looked at him, puzzled. 

“Stay?” She asked.

“Remember how we used to sleep at naptime?”

“I remember.”

“I was wondering if we could-” 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before she pulled him horizontal on the couch, and held him with that tender ferocity he hadn’t felt in decades. Their old sleeping position was a little awkward, since he was now much taller than her, but they made it work. Julian called for the lights to dim, and they both drifted off to sleep.

Harriet was only on the ship for the next week. When Julian wasn’t working and she wasn’t writing, they were together. After all, they had a lot of catching up to do. When the time came for Harriet to go, Julian walked her down to the shuttle bay.

“Do you think you’ll write about this?” He asked. “Us, I mean. Us finding each other again.” 

“No.” The reply came quick, as if she had it ready. He blinked.

“Really? Why not?” 

“Some things aren’t meant to be qualified with words.” She said. “Some things aren’t meant to be shared with the reading public. Some things are just for me.” 

“Ah.”

When they reached the shuttle, Harriet pressed a slip of paper into his hand. It was a torn-out sheet from her notebook, with some words written on it in a large and loopy handwriting. 

“My address,” She explained. “I’ll be away for the rest of the year, but after that I’ll be home. You should call me. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Julian nodded. 

Harriet leaned forward and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. And then, she stepped through the terminal and was gone. 

*his type being slim, long-legged Bond girls or 50 year old lizard men.  
** Harriet is explaining this concept incorrectly. It was explained incorrectly to her many years ago, and now she bases her work’s philosophy on it, so no one has corrected her.


End file.
